


Let Me Play Among the Stars

by spirithorse



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirithorse/pseuds/spirithorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“His name is Marco Bodt, if you want to know, but that’s not actually quite right. This is the dangerous part of him. The wolf in sheep’s clothing.The part that saves you.” (A SnK/Doctor Who fusion).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Even Bad Wolves Can Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> So this started out because I wrote most of the fics for Jeanmarco Week 2 during the build up to the Doctor Who 50th anniversary. It's also kind of a reaction to the 50th anniversary. But, mostly, it's me being self indulgent because I wanted Bad Wolf!Marco. I’m admitting to playing fast and dirty with Who canon for my own purposes in this.

_“I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.” – Doctor Who, Parting of the Ways_

“I wasn’t expecting you.”

Jean jumped at the voice, turning around to stare at the boy that was sitting on The Moment. He tensed, reaching for his gun only to remember that it was gone. Lost somewhere in the vaults of Arcadia. Jean swallowed and reached for the door, running his fingers over the latch before flipping it open. The boy’s eyes followed the motion, but he didn’t move from The Moment. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands.

“I was expecting a soldier.”

He flinched at the slight, wanting to lash out at the boy, but he was far too tired. It didn’t matter anyway, because he knew what the boy was seeing. He was seeing a scared kid barely into his first regeneration, a kid that had just gotten the license to fly the TARDIS before he had been shoved into the Time War. Jean wasn’t even finished with all of the required schooling, hadn’t even chosen a name, still using the one that he had been given at birth. He was nothing like a proper Time Lord, nothing like a proper soldier.

Jean pushed away from the door, going to stand in the middle of the hut. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the boy. “Well, you’ve got me.”

“Yes. I suppose I do.” The boy hopped off The Moment and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. The boy snapped his arms back down, walking over to Jean to circle around him. The scrutiny was enough to make Jean want to flinch away, but he steeled himself against the gaze, shifting into something like parade rest automatically. The movement brought a sigh from the boy, Jean watching as he came around to the front again. “But what does that leave you with? Your commanding officer died, I heard him go.”

Jean winced, trying not to remember how the man had shoved The Moment into his hands, rattling off what he was supposed to do with it. Then, his commander had grabbed Jean’s gun with his one remaining arm and run off to delay the Daleks that had been closing in on their position. And, like the coward he was, Jean had run. He had run listening to the Daleks converge on his commander and the man’s screams as he had died. It wouldn’t matter if he had regenerated, the Daleks would make sure that he didn’t live too long. All that Jean had been left with was the orders that had been shouting at him as his commander had run away. End this. End the war, End the death. End this.

“End this.” Jean jerked back as he felt the boy touch his face. The boy drew his hand back with a sad smile, stepping away from Jean and mirroring his position. “I heard that too. Your last order and his last wish. But is that what you really want?”

“Of course!”

The boy frowned and leaned forward. “Do you know what he was planning to do? Did you know that your commander was planning to destroy you all?”

Jean jumped, about to demand why the boy knew that, but he felt that he shouldn’t have been surprised. The boy had known about everything else already. And there was something about him, something beyond the freckled face with his disarming smile, something about the flash of gold in his brown eyes, that made Jean doubt that the boy was what he appeared.

He swallowed and looked away, staring at one of the walls. “I didn’t know that.”

“And you were going to follow his orders anyway?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe I was wrong them. Maybe the soldier came anyway.” Jean looked back at the boy, watching as he meandered over to the door. The boy leaned against the door, staring up at the ceiling. “So you will kill them all to end this war?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how many you would kill?”

Jean knew the number, knew it from the population of Gallifrey. Knew the population of each city. But he also knew how many soldiers had gone into the war, how many had died. The names of his friends who had never made it out of the war were probably so engraved in his memory that he would never be able to forget them. He knew how many civilians had died in the conflict, by injuries they had gotten from running away, from the crossfire. How many worlds had suffered and how many people had died on those worlds. He didn’t know how many more would die if the war wasn’t stopped, but he did know that the number would just get larger. And he knew that getting rid of the Daleks wouldn’t solve the problem, because there was always a chance that someone would come after Gallifrey again to gain the power of time travel or a problem would come from within Gallifrey. He could take out two threats at once and things would be better.

There would no longer be the monstrous Daleks and the cold and distant Time Lords policing the universe. And he wouldn’t have to remember everything that he had seen stumbling through the battlefields.

He looked back at the boy, recoiling as he saw that his entire right side down to his waist was missing. Jean could see bones, stark white against the sheer amount of blood. He turned around, bracing himself against the wall and throwing up.

Jean coughed, closing his eyes as the last spasms of his stomach passed. When he was sure that he was done, he spit on the ground and rubbed at his mouth with his sleeve, only then realizing that a hand was smoothing down his back. Jean turned his head to look at the boy, his face and side whole again.

The boy gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. That was a bit drastic, but I had to be sure.” The boy patted his back one more time before standing up. “Your commander wouldn’t have done that.”

“He was an old soldier.”

“Yes.” The boy held out a hand, pulling Jean back to his feet when he took it. “And a proud one. But you, Jean, are a coward. But that’s alright, because it just means you’ll always know what people really feel like, no matter how they are acting. Sometimes, we need cowards over soldiers.”

“What are you saying?”

The boy let go of his hand and walked back over to The Moment, picking it up without a grunt of effort. He held out the box to Jean, wiggling it a bit until Jean started to walk over. Jean was rewarded with a smile, the boy continuing to hold the box out as he spoke. “You could be great, Jean.”

“I could also be dead with the rest of them.”

The boy’s smile disappeared, the flicker of gold back in his eyes. “You don’t have to do this. There are other ways. Many will die, you know that.”

“Yeah, but how many will live? Can you tell me that?” Jean smirked as the boy leaned back, glad to have surprised him again. It seemed like that was all that he could do, but it was enough. It was the one little joy that he would allow himself before he ended the war and everything that went with it. “It’s worth it if I can keep other people from dying.”

“There will be a punishment for this.”

“I’ll take it. I’ve lived through hell already.” Jean reached out to touch the box, drawing his hand back just before he touched it. “But, can a dying man get one last wish? Can I at least know who you are?”

“I think you already know.”

“Humor me.”

The boy laughed, actually throwing his head back and giving a full laugh. Jean found himself smiling at that, it had been a long time since he had heard that sound.

“Of course, Jean. Of course.” The boy looked back at him, the golden glow disappearing for a moment. “I’m borrowing something from your future, someone actually. It’s just the physical image, not their actual body. But they were…will be important to you.” The boy’s faze screwed up as he thought something over. “His name is Marco Bodt, if you want to know, but that’s not actually quite right.”

“Then if you aren’t really him, then what are you?”

The gold was back, this time accompanied by a toothy smile. “This is the dangerous part of him. The wolf in sheep’s clothing. The part that saves you.”

“I don’t need saving.”

“You say that now.” The boy wiggled the box again, his smile disappearing. “Are you ready to end this, Jean?”

“More than ready.” Jean rested his hand on the box feeling an electric surge up his arm. He gasped, grabbing onto his own wrist with his other hand to keep himself steady. After years of fighting, he was exhausted. Now that he had the chance to end it all, it would be good to finally get the chance to sleep. He closed his eyes, opening them abruptly when he heard the boy speak again

“This will be your punishment then. The Time War will end, Jean, but you will live.”

Jaen didn’t get a chance to say anything before everything dissolved into gold.

* * *

“Please! They’re going to die up there alone!  _He’s_ going to die up there. Just help me, please!”

Silence was the only thing that met his shouting, Marco staring up at the ceiling of the TARDIS. The ship had never been quiet, not to his knowledge. Even when she was still, there was some small sound in the background, the clicking of gears or the soft hum that was almost always in the back of his head. Now there was just nothing, like the TARDIS was mourning the loss of her partner who was fighting and dying thousands of miles above them and years away.

But there was still time, still a way to get back there, Marco had learned that there was always a way.

He pushed away from the console, pacing around it as he tried to figure out something that he could do that wasn’t sitting on Earth, or walking outside. He didn’t want to go back home and just try to forget about everything that had happened, everything that he had done.

Marco slapped the console, reeling back when it sparked at him. He caught himself on the railing, staring up at the central column. “Hey, I’m just as angry as you are. I didn’t want to be sent back here either! I would have fought up there. I don’t want to die alone and he shouldn’t either! Our  _friends_  are up there and they need our help. We’ve never run away before, why start now?!”

There was no answer from the TARDIS, Marco panting for breath as he waited for something. When no answer came, he hung his head with a long sigh.

He pushed away from the railing, resting one hand gently on the edge of the console. “I’m sorry, you don’t deserve to be yelled at. You’re probably hurting just as much as I am. We’ll think of something or...”

Marco let himself trail off, not even sure what they could do. He stared down at his hand, patting the TARDIS again before turning to walk towards the doors. He needed to get away from the ship, walk around the block to clear his head from the horrible images of the others on the game station dying, of Jean dying.. He need to be able to think to be able to do anything.

He was at the doors when there was a creak behind him, Marco looking over his shoulder to see one of the panels on the console rising. Golden light leaked from the panel, Marco throwing an arm over his face, remembering the warning that Jean had given him once before. But nothing happened. The light just swirled in the air above the open panel, Marco almost sure that it was beckoning him closer.

He swallowed and looked back at the doors, giving into the temptation. Because this was the TARDIS talking to him, offering him something. Marco didn’t know what the plan was, but he was sure that something would come up. She was far older and smarter than he was after all.

Marco stepped up to the panel, reaching up to comb his fingers through the light. He jerked back when he felt his fingers burn, shaking them out until he could feel them again. Marco chuckled at a deep grumble from the TARDIS, taking the noise as his chastisement. He should have known better than to just reach out and touch something. He swallowed, bracing himself on the console as he leaned down to look into the light.

* * *

He couldn’t do it. Jean gritted his teeth, staring down at the floor. He was such a damn coward, but he couldn’t do it again.

Daleks were coming into the room, he could hear them, but Jean didn’t care. He wouldn’t be able to destroy them and half of the planet below, not when he still remembered his commander shoving The Moment into his arms. Not when he remembered activating the box and killing the Daleks and Gallifrey. Not when he could remember the exact death toll, the same death toll that should have been higher by one, because Jean certainly hadn’t made it out of the Time War alive. He had never known what he was, but he was just waiting to die.

Now he could get that chance, but he couldn’t end the Time War. Jean chuckled to himself. A coward and a failure as a soldier, that was himself all over.

He took a shaky breath, closing  his eyes and waiting for the final blow to come.

What came instead as the sound of the TARDIS materializing.

Jean turned around, staring at the ship finally landed. His hands shook as he took in the fact that she really was there, because she wasn’t supposed to be. He had sent her back with the only other living person left in the station, the one life that he had managed to safe. The one thing that he had hoped would appease his conscience when he knew that he would be killing hundreds more. But the TARDIS had come back, which was impossible and very bad.

He went to step forward, losing his footing as the doors swung open, emitting golden light. Jean brought his arm up to cover his eyes, peeking out from underneath it when the intensity of the light lessened.

Jean got a glimpse of Marco standing, silhouetted by the light, before his friend was rushing over and pulling him to his feet. Another tug brought Jean behind Marco, leaving the human between him and the Daleks.

He clawed at Marco’s shoulders, trying to get him to move away, because the Daleks were waiting for orders at the moment, but that wouldn’t last for long. They were all bent on killing the last Time Lord, on winning the Time War and one human wasn’t going to do much. What they had to do was to run while there was still a chance. In the TARDIS, Jean would have to time to come up with another idea with more resources. He wouldn’t run too far, not until the last Daleks were destroyed, but he wasn’t going to sit and watch Marco die.

“Marco’s, let’s go.”

“Calm down, Jean.” Marco grabbed onto one of his hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be alright.”

“What is this abomination?”

Jean felt his stomach twist as the emperor of the Daleks spoke, but that was nothing compared to the dread that filled him when he saw Marco’s eyes light up gold.

_“His name is Marco Bodt, if you want to know, but that’s not actually quite right. This is the dangerous part of him. The wolf in sheep’s clothing.”_

“M-Marco?”

Marco didn’t seem to hear him, walking up until he was standing by the bomb. Jean’s fingers twitched by his sides, wanting to reach out and pull Marco away from the bomb. He didn’t want his friend to be the one to push the lever, because Marco wouldn’t be able to handle the guilt, it would crush him. Jean was already a destroyer of worlds, a soldier, he knew how to deal with the guilt. He had to, it was his punishment for attempting to end the Time War once already.

But that was if this thing really was Marco in the first place.

Jean went to take a step forward, freezing when Marco threw out his arms. “An abomination? No, I am the Bad Wolf, brought here through time and space.” A twitch of his fingers had the name of the station dissolving in golden light, Marco grinning the entire time. “I have come to end this.”

“Exterminate the abomination!”

Jean jumped forward as one of the Daleks trundled forward, watching in awe as a second twist of Marco’s fingers had the Dalek dissolving into nothing. Marco didn’t even look away from the emperor on the screen. “Does an abomination grant mercy when it needs to be given? Does an abomination bring life?” Marco’s arms fell back to his sides. “I can see everything that is, that was and what will be and I see you clearly. You are aren’t a god, you are  _tiny_. I see every atom of you and I divide them.”

The glow intensified, Jean turning around to watch as the Daleks dissolved into nothing around them, his heard beating quickly. This was like when The Moment had been activated, but he didn’t want to lose consciousness, didn’t want to wake up in the throws of another regeneration. He was afraid that it would mean losing Marco, that his friend would be the price for this victory. But The Moment had said that it had only borrowed this version of Marco to speak to him, which meant that what he was seeing was Marco. And it was his worst nightmare.

He stepped through the swirls of gold, Marco turning around to look at him. His usual smile was on his face, the expression making Jean sick. Marco would have never smiled while he had killed, he would have never killed in the first place. It was enough to make Jean want to run for his TARDIS and run until he could forget what had happened. But he had to figure out what the price for this victory was, because nothing had ever come to him for free.

After a moment of hesitation, Jean reached out to touch Marco’s shoulder. “Marco?”

“Jean.” The glow abated somewhat, Marco taking a step towards him. “I’m glad. I thought I would be too late.”

“Marco, what did you do?”

Marco frowned, looking around the room before he focused on the TARDIS. His eyes widened, Jean seeing a flicker of brown before they were back to gold. “I…I wanted…I had to save you.”

_"The part that saves you.”_

Jean tightened his grip on Marco, trying to block out his memory of what The Moment had told him. “What did you  _do_?”

“I….I looked into the TARDIS and the TARDIS looked into me.”

The Time Vortex. Jean stepped back only for Marco to catch him, but he was too busy staring at the gold in Marco’s eyes to notice. Marco had taken in the Time Vortex to get to him, something that no human could do, that nothing could do without dying. Marco was burning from the inside out and it was all Jean’s fault.

He grabbed onto Marco’s arms just to stop his hands from shaking, trying his best not to imagine Marco burning, flaking into black before disappearing in a puff of ash and golden light. And all of it would be his fault. Another thing that he loved beyond anything he could really comprehend burning in front of him in gold. His fault, the little lost soldier who couldn’t even regenerate right. Who had only ended the war because his superior had gone and gotten himself killed. The little lost soldier whose luck had finally run out.

Jean didn’t even realize that he was crying until Marco rested a hand on his cheek, Marco’s thumb brushing away tears. “Jean, what’s wrong? What’s-” Marco flinched, one hand reaching up to hold onto his head.

The gold disappeared from his eyes, Marco staring up at Jean in fear. “J-Jean, what’s going on. It  _hurts._ ”

“I know, Marco. I know.” Jean stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Marco. It was all he would be able to do, hold Marco as he drifted away It was nothing compared to everything that Marco had done, and it felt more like failure than being able to do anything. “I’m here. You saved me. Thank you.”

“Good. I didn’t want you to die.”

“I know.” Jean sighed and closed his eyes, pressing his head against Marco’s shoulder.

He winced as he felt the first brush of something over his mind, taking a moment to recognize what it was. There was no way that he would be able to forget what The Moment felt like, not when it had been warning him about this. He looked up from Marco’s shoulder, staring at The Moment where it stood across the room.

It had taken the form of his commanding officer this time, right down to the missing arm. Jean staring at The Moment, a little unease when it smiled, because he had never seen the expression on his commanding officer’s face. “My soldier, come home from the war. Will you stay?”

Jean wanted to shout at The Moment, because it could have warned him that there was another price to pay for using it as a weapon. He was already living, wasn’t that enough for it? Except, that it was asking him to come home and Gallifrey was gone. Gallifrey had burned like Marco was doing in his arms.

Just like Marco.

His eyes widened, Jean staring at The Moment. It was the answer that he needed, because he knew that nothing would be able to survive holding the Time Vortex, but he had a way out of death. He had a way to save Marco.

Jean hung onto Marco a bit more tightly, shaking his head. “No.”

The Moment saluted him the best it could with one arm. “Soldier.”

Then it was gone, Jean ignoring it in favor of pulling Marco from him. He pushed the bangs that were clinging to Marco’s face back, smiling when Marco looked up at him. “Hey, listen to me, you’re going to be fine. I’m going to take care of you, Marco. I’m going to save you.”

He didn’t let Marco speak, pressing their lips together. Jean felt Marco jerk in his arms, letting his body go on automatic pilot as he looked for the familiar touch of the Time Vortex and  _pulled_.

It flooded into him, golden, infinite and far too hot. Jean struggled not to wince or throw it away from him, holding steady until all pieces of the vortex were out of Marco, the human going limp in his arms.

Jean caught him, gently lowering Marco to the floor. He paused long enough to press a kiss to Marco’s forehead, feeling the vortex flare up at the contact between him and its old host. Jean pushed it back, grunting with the effort it took to get to his feet. He could feel the vortex burning through his veins, burning away the body that he had this time around. It wouldn’t take long for it to consume him completely, and then he could finally go home. But that wouldn’t be right, he had been told to live, so he would do that.

He sucked in a deep breath, letting himself burn for a moment more before letting the Time Vortex go. The light spiraled back into the TARDIS, Jean taking the moment to bask in the feeling of not being torn apart for a brief moment. At least until something in his stomach twisted and one of his hearts gave out.

Jean cursed and stumbled to the side, catching himself against a bank of panels. He looked down at his hands, watching gold dart through his veins. He had thought that he had had more time. But he was still young and stupid, barely into his second regeneration before he burned it out and all for the sake of a human.

He pushed himself upright, swaying on his feet. It would put distance between him and Marco and give him the chance to funnel off the energy. After all the effort that he had gone through, Jean didn’t want to mess it all up by hurting Marco when he regenerated. He was already horrible at it, he didn’t need another way to mess up the change.

Jean glanced down at Marco with a smile, shaking his head. “Sorry, Marco.”

Then he was lost to gold light.

* * *

Marco woke up to the sound of the TARDIS in flight and something gently nudging against his side. He slapped at the thing, hearing Jean laugh as he moved away. Marco grumbled to himself, curling up further only to sit up abruptly when he remembered.

Jean shouldn’t be there, because he was still on the game station and Marco was on Earth.

He went to roll over, falling off the bench and onto the grating. Marco pushed himself upright before Jean could come over, reaching for the railing for something to brace himself on. “What happened?”

Jean shrugged, leaning against the console. “The plan. The Daleks are gone and everything is fine. We’re heading back to Earth to rest a bit, because I’m worn out. You slept through the entire time.”

“Jean,” he reached out for the Time Lord, surprised when Jean shied away from him. “Jean, how did I get here?”

“I recalled the TARDIS when it was safe.”

“But emergency protocols?”

“I wrote them. I can rewrite them.” Jean flicked something on the console. “Now, pick somewhere you want to go. I would, but we always seem to get into trouble.”

Marco grabbed on Jean as he went to walk past, pulling the Time Lord close. “I remember singing and gold and burning. And I remember a kiss.”

Jean looked uncomfortable for a moment before he shrugged. “You were sleeping pretty soundly. Must have dreamed it.”

It was the only thing that made sense, at least for now. Marco sighed, glancing up at Jean one last time before letting go of him. “Yeah…Have your eyes always been that color?”

“What color?”

“Gold.”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember that last time I looked in a mirror.”

Marco let the comment slide, choosing to brace himself against the console and grin at Jean. The Time Lord joined him, staring up at the center column. “So, where to?”

“Anywhere.”


	2. Keep My Sheep Suit On

  
_“None of this was meant to happen. There was a man_ _—_ _this wonderful man. And he stopped it. The Titanic, the Adipose, the ATMOS. He stopped them all from happening._ _”  
-Doctor Who, Turn Left_   


Ymir followed the flow of the crowd, elbowing her way through the mass when she had to. Something had happened over by the river, something to do with the huge star that had hovered over the city before the army had taken it down. Ymir was not stupid enough to believe that it was a stunt, like the news was starting to report. They had been just as surprised as she had been when the star came from the sky. She wasn’t going to just sit around and be lured into a false sense of bliss by a series of lies, not when her gut was telling her to run.

Run where was the real question. If she was smart she would be running away. Instead, she was running towards the river, because she was too curious to just let it go.

Her headlong dash came to a stop when she fetched herself up against the barriers that were set. Ymir planted her hands on the barrier, staring at the crowd of people that were rushing around the burning ruins of something metal. She tsked, pushing away from the barrier. Ymir started to walk in the opposite direction, speeding up when she saw flashing lights in the distance.  _That_  looked like something that she should check out.

The crowd thinned out the more she headed towards where the lights were, Ymir disappointed when it was only an ambulance. She stopped to lean against the barrier, drumming her fingers against it before heaving a sigh. Going back to the center of the crowd wouldn’t get her anything, it would just be a cesspool for rumors and a place where the police wouldn’t tell them anything. There was a chance that she could get someone over by the ambulance to talk to her, except that they didn’t look like the usual paramedics. They all looked like soldiers. Ymir swallowed and took a step forward only to come to a sharp stop as a stretcher was brought out into the open.

She flinched back from the barrier as a hand slipped out from beneath the sheet. The stretcher was brought to a stop, the hand reverently set back under the sheet.

The barrier rattled under her hands, Ymir turning to stare at the young man that had practically flung himself at the metal barricade. She took a step back as the man went to climb over the barrier only to be gently pushed backwards by one of the soldiers.

“You can’t be here, sir. It’s too dangerous.”

“No, just…” The man tried to dodge around the soldier. “Just let me see him. I just need to know!”

“Sir, please get back.”

“Just tell me if it’s Jean. Blond hair, undercut, gold eyes. Just tell me if the body has that.”

The soldier started back, Ymir watching as the man sagged over the barrier. That was enough of an answer for the both of them,

The soldier muttered what sounded like an apology under his breath before slinking back to where the stretcher was being loaded into the ambulance. Ymir barely watched the operation, her attention on the man who was still leaning heavily against the barricade.

She was completely unprepared for the man to turn and look at her. He looked like he was about to cry, still breathing heavily from his run. And he was looking at her like she had all the answers, which threw Ymir off.

She was just a bartender and not one of the ones that was willing to listen to people’s problems. She was there to make drinks and flirt when she had the time, not to act as a sounding board. There was nothing she could do but shrug, and even that seemed like the wrong move.

The man breathed out a broken chuckle, reaching up to swipe at his eyes. “Sorry. It’s just…I’ve been looking for him for so long and I thought that I had made it this time. The calculations were right and I should have been…” He pushed away from the barricade, staring at her intently. “Who are you?”

That was just too much for her. Ymir shook her head and took a few steps backward. “No. Dude, I’m sorry that this Jean guy is dead. It’s Christmas and no one needs that news. But you’re not getting that. Just get yourself a drink and mourn normally.”

She turned and jogged away before he could ask her anything else. Ymir didn’t stop her jog until she was at the dubious safety of the buildings along the river. She caught herself against the wall of the nearest building, turning around to glance back at where the man was, only to see that the man was staring at her. Ymir wasn’t sure if she imagined the flash of gold in his eyes or not, but she was sure that she didn’t imagine the man turning on his heel and disappearing.

Ymir rubbed her eyes, part of her hoping that this was all a bad dream. But no amount of rubbing would make the ambulance, the barriers or the wreckage of the flying star disappear.

* * *

Ymir tugged her coat more tightly around her, shuffling through the park. It was past the curfew, but no one was listening to the soldiers. They were still too panicked from the ATMOS disaster. All of the phones in the neighborhood had long lines as people tried to contact friends and family that hadn’t made into their little camp. It almost made Ymir glad that she didn’t have any friends or family.

She frowned, reaching into her pocket. Part of her expected to brush across a piece of paper, one with a number so familiar that she could recite it without thinking. 843-223-9653. The number came with the image of a smiling blond woman that she had met at a bar, but both the woman and the bar was unfamiliar. And, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

Ymir muttered a curse under her breath and flopped down on a nearby bench. Thinking too hard about it wouldn’t bring back the image, she had learned that much. It was just like the mysterious chittering that she heard over her shoulder every once and a while and the sensation that something was clinging to her. It was better to just let the sensations come and go without thinking too hard on them. There were other things to focus on, like the job she had at the metal recycling plants. That was tiring enough without daydreaming about a better life, because she would never get it. The floating star had destroyed half of the business across the river and the ship that had fell from the sky had destroyed London entirely.

She tipped her head back, staring up at the sky. Ymir frowned, reaching out her hand like she could reach out and push aside the fog to see the stars. There had been more when she was a child, and when she was an adult. Now, it seemed like they were just flickering out, like they were just as tired as the rest of the people.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

She jumped at the sound of the voice. Ymir stared at the man that was staring up at the sky, narrowing her eyes as she recognized him. “You.”

“Hello again.”

“No.” She stood up, marching over to him and grabbing a handful of his shirt. Ymir ignored the flash of gold in his eyes in favor of hauling him forward, nearly growling. “You don’t just get to say that. Tell me how you knew.”

He tipped his head to the side. “Knew what?”

“Don’t play dumb. You told me to get out of London for Christmas and I  _never_ celebrate Christmas, but I did this year. You knew that whatever that was would happen and I bet you know about the car thing that happened today.”

To her relief, he didn’t even try to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just sighed and touched her hand, tapping it until she let it go.

He took a step back before gesturing up to the sky. “Watch, because we’re probably going to be the only ones that notice.”

Ymir almost demanded to know what he was talking about, but she tipped her head back nonetheless. As the minutes passed by, she was tempted to turn and start questioning him again, when she was distracted by an explosion in the sky.

She started back, tripping back onto the bench. But she didn’t take her eyes from the sky, waiting until the blast was gone to begin to stutter out a question. “W-what was that?”

“That?” The man gave a sad chuckle, almost like the chuckle he had done at their first meeting. “That was Eren Jaeger, Petra Ral and Levi. All of them brave people. All of them gone.” He ducked his head, wrapping his arms around himself. “We’re running out of people that can save you guys. I wish I could help, but I’m not always here.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s…difficult to make the calculations. Doing it with someone else would be easier, but I’m the one with the most experience. I’ve got a bit too much radiation for this to work properly.”

Ymir scooted to the end of her bench. “Oh no. You’re not from London are you?”

“No. You don’t have to worry about that. You’re safe.”

“How can I trust you?”

The man hesitated for a moment before turning towards her and offering his hand. “I’m trying to save the Earth.”

Ymir stared at the offered hand and snorted. “What makes you think that you can do that?”

“I’m persistent and I know how things should have gone.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Do you really think that it was meant to be this way?”

“Shit happens all the time. Things won’t change so easily.”

“But things can be better, you have to agree with that.”

Ymir shrugged, wanting to deny it. If she denied it, then it would be better for her. There wouldn’t be anymore daydreaming of a future where things were better, or longing for the past. But she couldn’t shake the idea of the blonde woman who had smiled so nicely at her, and that number that kept echoing through her head, the number that she had never gotten. Ymir bit her lip and looked back up at the clearing sky, smiling when she saw that the stars were coming back out. There were still a few of them that were missing, but it was better than the overcast sky that had hung over them all day. “Yeah.”

She glanced over at him, only to find the man staring up at the sky. And he looked like a soldier, not like the expressive man that she had come to know. Ymir shivered and pulled her coat more tightly around herself, freezing when the man spoke again.

“There’s something coming, something dark. And we’re going to need you to help.”

“Why?”

“Because you are the only one that can.” The man turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye. “And because, somewhere deep down, you’d like to be a goddess one time.”

_“I think you’d like it if you try it. Can you do that for me? Try being a goddess to someone, just once. Then tell me what it feels like.”_

Ymir jumped at the memory, looking around. Briefly, she thought she saw something hanging onto her shoulder. Ymir was just about to demand that the man explain what was going on with her back when she felt the man touch her shoulder. She jumped away from him, scrambling to her feet. “The fuck?”

“It looked like you had something on your back.”

“Well I don’t.” Ymir swiped a hand over her shoulder, relived to feel nothing there. Steadied, she focused her attention on him and driving the man away. “So, what do you want from me? You wouldn’t be wasting your time talking to me if you didn’t want anything. You could be out saving the world. Why me?”

“Because you’re special.” The man sobered up a little. “Because we need you especially. I’m not good with time, but I know enough to recognize something going oddly. Time alters around you, and it doesn’t do that for everyone. You, Levi and…well there were three including you and Levi.”

“Get to the point.”

The man sighed and tucked his hands into his pockets. “I’ll give you three days, and then you’ll come to find me.”

Ymir scoffed. “You can’t know that.”

The man shrugged, tracking out a series of letters on the bench with a small smile on his face. “I’ll find you, and then you’ll make your decision.”

Then he was gone.

Ymir looked around, shivering from more than just the cold. She couldn’t decide if the man was crazy or if she was for even paying attention to him. She glanced up at the place in the sky where the explosion had happened before turning and walking back to her house.

* * *

That clever motherfucker.

He had set her up from the start, Ymir understood that now. The man had talked to her about being special, about being able to look beyond herself just once. And she had fallen for it because of some obviously false memory of a blonde that had smiled at her. Even worse, the man had spun her a tale about an alien who came to save the world. She should have known that he was insane because he had said that she helped him, the same woman who couldn’t bring herself to care enough about the others around her because it meant less trouble. It was far easier to only care about herself instead of worrying about the whole world.

And she had fallen for it like an idiot.

Now because of that, she was lying on her back in the middle of the road, bleeding to death because she had stepped in front of a fucking truck.

Ymir groaned and let her head fall back to the ground, it wasn’t worth the effort it took to keep it up. She stared up at the sky, listening to people yelling around her, but the sound couldn’t really reach her. At least that was a break, there was no more yelling. Better yet, she was sure that she was going to take that left turn now, stumbling into a career that she had never wanted as a secretary because the pay was slightly better. Maybe now she would be able to meet that blonde that kept haunting her.

Someone loomed in her vision, Ymir wishing that she had the strength to curse at the man. He had the gall to tell her that everything would turn out fine, when he probably knew that she would have to die. And now he was kneeling beside her, holding her hand like he actually cared. She had never been anything but a pawn to him, and she hated herself because she couldn’t really be angry at him, not if that world he described was as good as he said it was.

The man patted her hand. “Thank you. I mean it. You could have turned away but you decided to push on anyway and…just thank you.” He looked away, biting at his lip. “But could you do one more thing for me?”

She could only squeeze his hand as an answer. She was dying already, it wasn’t like she could do anything for him

The man smiled, leaning closer to him. “When you see Jean, tell him this-”

* * *

Ymir jolted awake to the sound of Jean cursing at someone out of her line of sight, but that wasn’t where her attention was. She scrambled to her feet, catching sight of the bug that had been on her back from wherever the hell she had gone. Ymir gave the bug a kick, watching it hit one of the walls of the stall and hearing it squish. She smiled to herself, turning to look at where Jean was standing at the flap that was the door to the stall, glaring out into the bazaar.

She felt a rush of relief at seeing him, Ymir quickly shaking her head. That made no sense considering that she knew that he was in the bazaar. There was no reason for her to be missing him when he had been looking at the stalls just like she had. She had only followed the fortune teller because the woman had promised to have something that Christa would like.

The thought of the blonde girl made her jump, Ymir reaching into her pocket for her cell phone and the slip of paper with Christa’s new number. For some reason, she wanted to see her girlfriend. She was sure that Jean wouldn’t mind the return to Earth for a day or so, especially if Ymir could guilt him into it.

She was busy typing in the number when Jean turned to look at her. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” She didn’t look up from the screen of the cell phone, shaking her head. “I don’t need you to save me all the time.”

She heard Jean sputter, about to laugh when she was distracted by the numbers that made up Christa’s number. They were familiar, for good reason because Ymir had been staring at them since Christa had given the number to her. But there was something else to them, something that wouldn’t leave her alone.

Ymir tapped her fingers against the buttons on her phone, playing around in the text message space as she watched Jean prowl around the stall. He paused to poke at the dead beetle with his foot, his face contorting in confusion. “That’s weird. That’s almost too much time around this thing.”

She paused in her random typing, staring at the message that she had written out on her phone. But her mind was elsewhere, on a stray memory that she shouldn’t have gotten.

_“I’m not good with time, but I know enough to recognize something going oddly. Time alters around you, and it doesn’t do that for everyone.”_

“Someone told me that.”

“Told you what?”

“Told me that it was strange, that  _I_ was strange.” She shook her head, wanting to laugh it off, but the look on Jean’s face stopped her. She had never seen him so serious. Then again, it was dealing with time, which was Jean’s field. She shrugged. “He said that time bent weirdly around three people; me, Levi and someone else. But he wouldn’t tell me who.”

“He?”

“Yeah, some guy I met with that think on me. But I guess it doesn’t matter, because none of it really happened, right? I couldn’t be here if none of that happened.”

“Ymir, tell me.”

She startled back, not used to that tone being turned on her. She frowned, tempted to chuck her phone at his head. But Jean still looked shaken and scared, and it would just show him up if she told him about that man and it turned out that there was nothing important about him.

Ymir sucked in a quick breath, glaring right back at him. “I don’t know, I can’t remember him well. He had dark hair and brown eyes.” Jean relaxed a bit, Ymir about to walk out of the stall when something made her pause. It was the faint memory of gold. She frowned, staring at the phrases that she had typed on her phone, deleting them one by one. “Or were they gold? I don’t know. But he had a fuck ton of freckles. I mean, I have freckles, but this guy wins the award for freckles. And he told me to tell you something.”

She heard Jean let out a ragged breath, looking up from her phone to see him wide eyed and shaking. He took a step forward, reaching out for her. Ymir dodged to the side, watching as Jean turned to look at her again.

“Ymir, what did he say?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember!”

“Ymir, what did he-” Jean cut himself off with a strangled noise, staring down at her phone. Ymir didn’t dare to look down, watching as his face went from confused, to hopeful to frightened. He breathed out a single world before turning to run out of the stall.

“Marco.”

Ymir followed him, pushing open the tent flap and shouting, “Who's Marco?” but Jean was already far ahead of her; running full tilt for the TARDIS.

She sighed, intending to put her phone away when she saw the last phrase that she had kept in the text message box.

_The-Bad-Wolf._


End file.
